To Say Goodbye (3 page)

Jackson turned off the engine, strolled to the front door, and glided his key in the lock.

“Mom, you home?” he yelled up the steps as he took off his shoes.

“Uncle Jackson!” a voice bellowed from upstairs. He heard his nephew jumping up and down. He smiled involuntarily, taking the steps two at a time.

“Jace, my man. What’s happening?” he asked, extending his palm to give the boy five. Jace smiled up at him, giving Jackson a grin that stopped his heart.

Jace was Logan’s age. Seeing his nephew made him happy, but it also caused his heart to jolt, especially in these past few months. It killed him to think of all the smiles he was missing from Logan, to think about Logan’s toothy grin looking up at another man.

Jace clung to Jackson’s knee, and he ruffled his hair. Jackson’s mom turned from the meatballs cooking on the stove, her Thursday night specialty. “Hey, honey. Are you hungry?”

“No, I couldn’t look at food. Just came from work.”

“You’re getting too skinny. Sit down, eat.”

“Mom, I’m stuffed.”

“You look gaunt. You’re not taking care of yourself. I can tell.”

“
Mom
. I’m fine.”

His mom always fussed over him, but now she was even more obsessive than usual. She was worried about him slipping into another depression like he had when he’d come home from the army. It was bad, he would admit. He couldn’t blame her for worrying.

“Where’s Gretta?” he asked, changing the subject as Jace ran to get his Legos to play with. Jackson leaned on the counter, his mother returning to the stove.

“Working late tonight. There’s a huge bridal party coming in after store hours. Some highfalutin customers. I’m watching Logan because Jonathan is also working late. An important trial’s happening.”

Jackson grabbed a few Hershey Kisses from the candy bowl, shoveling them into his mouth. His mother turned around at the rustling of the paper. “I thought you couldn’t think about food?”

“It’s just candy.”

“Well, if you don’t eat with us, I’m going to think you have something against my meatballs. Since you’re a gourmet chef and all.”

“You know I love your cooking, Mom.” He walked over to give the sometimes-sassy woman a peck on the cheek.

“Well, I don’t know. You haven’t been around much. I’ve missed you. Are you okay?”

She looked at him seriously. He looked away. She could always tell when he was lying.

“I’m fine.”

“Honey, how could you be? It’s been a terrible time. What with Logan gone, and now Tim. It’s been awful.”

“I know.” God, did he know. He didn’t need a reminder of how tough things had been. He cast his gaze to the floor, trying to stop his mind from heading down the dark path it had traveled so many times lately. Mercifully, his mom’s words snapped him out of it.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad news.” Jace mercifully returned to the room, forcing Jackson’s mom to change the conversation. He quietly went to the corner of the kitchen, dumping his Legos all over the floor. Mrs. Gauge simply sighed, shaking her head at the mess. As one of her beloved grandchildren, though, Jace could easily get away with just about anything. The obsessively organized, clean-freak woman didn’t say a word to him as he played.

“How’s Sophia holding up?” she asked, turning back to their conversation.

Jackson shrugged. “Haven’t seen her since the funeral.”

“Why not?”

“I just thought it would be weird. What am I supposed to do? Stop by, chat her up? I barely know her.”

“You were so close to Tim though.”

“It was a long time ago.”

“I just think she would appreciate it if you stopped by. Plus, it would be good for you. It would be good for you to socialize.”

“With Tim’s wife? You think that’s a good idea?”

“I didn’t say take her to bed, Jackson. Jesus.”

Jackson covered his eyes with his hands. “I would hope not. My God. Do you always just say what you’re thinking?”

“Pretty much. Which is why I’m also going to say it’s time for a haircut. And a shave. You look like you’re homeless.”

“It’s only been two days. Stubble is sexy.”

“Not in my book,” she said, turning to get the meatballs off the stove. “Go get your father. He’s in the garage. Tell him dinner’s ready.”

“Will do.”

Jackson traipsed down the stairs to the garage, beckoned his father to come inside, and returned to the kitchen. He smiled to see a plate at his seat at the table.

“Mom, I said I’m not hungry.”

She ignored him, ordering Jace to his spot as she told Jackson to have a seat.

“Louis, please say grace,” she ordered, and her husband complied.

_______________

“Hey, man, come on in,” Jackson said as he opened the door the following night. Evan was a few minutes early, as always. The punctuality engrained in their minds during their time in the army had never left Evan’s personality, even though he too had ended up abandoning the career path in favor of civilian life.

They hugged the typical masculine, one-hand slapping hug, trying not to dismiss too much manliness or to let too much emotion creep in.

When Evan had called on Monday to say he’d be in town this weekend, Jackson had smiled.

“Of course I’ll be home. Stop by, buddy. Can’t wait to see you.”

Each life stage was punctuated by different friendships, different connections. For Jackson, his twenties were marked by his friendship with Evan. Together, they’d been through boot camp, served two tours in Iraq, and survived a few close calls. Civilian life had taken them in different directions, but Jackson couldn’t wait to see him again.

“How’s it going, buddy?” Evan asked. Jackson gauged his appearance. It was strange seeing the spikey, gelled hair where the standard military haircut had once been.

“It’s going. Working. That’s about it. How about you?”

“It’s awesome. Anna and I are getting married.”

“Congrats. That’s great.” Jackson smiled as his friend beamed, obviously thrilled. A part of the words stung, though. Jackson didn’t want to admit it, wouldn’t let the cold emotion creep into his face. He sat stoically on the couch as his buddy animatedly discussed the details of his life—the engagement, the decision to elope next month, the new house.

Jackson was happy for him. He really was. He didn’t begrudge his friend the happiness he deserved. But as Evan chattered on, Jackson’s mind drifted away. He was taken back, back to a time when his life was in order, a time when he too thought marriage could fulfill him.

_______________

Beads of water still dripping from his closely shorn hair after his shower, he sauntered to the kitchen. He was shirtless, just as she’d always preferred him, his six-pack rippling. His army workouts had kept him in top condition, even in these past few months as he prepared for his return to civilian life.

It felt so undeniably good to be home. When he was away, he’d missed home like crazy. The past year had been the worst, though, knowing Chloe was home with their young son, alone, while he was off fearing death every moment. He hadn’t wanted to miss a second, had been sick thinking about all the milestones breezing by. He’d hated leaving her alone with Logan, hated being away from his wife. His heart ached with every letter, every phone call.

But that was over now. He’d walked away from the family tradition, walked away from the army life. He’d given up his combat boots and M-16 to return home to a traditional life. He was nervous about finding work, about fitting back in to the civilian lifestyle. Standing at the edge of the kitchen, taking in her brunette curls softly falling down the curve of her perfect back, watching her as she washed the dishes from dinner, he couldn’t help but smile. He would give up anything to be here with her, his gorgeous wife.

She’d come into his life when he wasn’t even thinking about love, had walked into the bar at the perfect moment. He’d been home on leave, had looked up from the bottle of beer he was having with Evan to see her coming in with a few friends. From the second he’d seen her bronzed skin, her perfect, chocolate locks, he been mesmerized by her.

Now, the woman who had stolen his gaze at the bar was his wife. Mrs. Gauge.

He ambled behind her now, wrapping his hands around her hips as she scrubbed a dish. He reached up to softly brush her hair to the side, his lips finding her neck. He waited for her customary murmur, the parting of her lips, the stretching of her neck to give him better access.

Instead, she’d shrugged him away. “I have to finish these before Logan wakes up,” she said. He reached for the dish in her hand, ignoring the suds that were everywhere. He placed the dish in the water, reached for the nearby dishtowel, and dried his hands. He spun her around in his arms. Pressing against her, he leaned in to resume kissing her neck.

“He’s sleeping. He’s out like a light. I just checked. Forget about the dishes. I’ve missed you.”

She stiffened, and his gut lurched. She’d been distant with him since he returned a week ago. He thought it’d just been the nerves of him returning, the stress of them adjusting to real married life. Maybe it was just awkward for her now that he was home. Maybe it was the stress of an almost toddler, the exhaustion of parenting alone. He couldn’t blame her for feeling cold.

She sighed audibly and pushed him away. “Jackson, I didn’t want to do this. Not now. But I’m going to be honest with you.”

His stomach plummeted as he looked into the hazel eyes of his wife. Where once he’d seen love reverberating for him, he saw blankness, coldness. Something was wrong, and it wasn’t just a lack of sleep.

“Okay,” he said, not wanting to recognize the crumbling of the world around him. Not wanting to believe when he’d finally returned home, when he’d given it all up for her, it was going to amount to disaster.

“I’ve met someone else.”

The words floated in the air between them, silence underscoring their power.

“What do you mean you’ve met someone else?”

“I’ve fallen in love with someone else. His name is Seth.”

He waited for the laughter, waited for the telltale fine lines around her eyes to show as her smile widened. He waited for the “just kidding” line to come from her mouth, waited for her to pull on his hand and yank him upstairs for the hot sex he’d been craving.

Instead, she just stared, assessing his reaction.

“Jackson, I’m sorry. I didn’t plan on this happening. I didn’t.”

“What are you talking about? You said a few months ago you couldn’t wait for me to come home.”

“I know. And I meant it at the time. But you were gone. You weren’t here. It was lonely. And Seth came along. I met him at Logan’s daycare. He has a little boy, too. We went for coffee one day, just as friends, and it all just happened so fast. I didn’t plan to fall for him. It just happened.”

“Jesus Christ, Chloe. We’re married. We have a life together. A son. He isn’t even two yet. And you’re sleeping with someone else?”

“Don’t be crude.”

Anger boiled in his blood now. “I’m being crude? You’re fucking cheating on me. I gave it all up, Chloe. I gave up my career for you. To be with you. I know it was hard with me away. So I quit, gave it up, abandoned my duty to be with you and Logan. I love you.” He looked into her eyes, rage burning within him. Where once he saw eyes that only seemed to see him, he now saw regret. He saw distance. He saw screaming emptiness.

She didn’t love him anymore. How could this happen? How could she fall out of love with him when things were finally back on track, when he was finally home? How could the spunky woman who had danced with him at the bar, whose kiss had made him come to life, not want to be with him? How could she change her mind so quickly?

Tears formed in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I just can’t do this. I don’t even know you.”

“Yes, you do. You know me. You love me.” He desperately clung to the façade, to the vision he had of her from the bar, the vision of her in the short white dress a few years ago. The vision of her in the photographs, of Logan in her stomach. The visions he had of them growing old together, raising Logan together, and sitting on their front porch with grandchildren at their feet.

Now, it was going up in a puff of smoke, blowing up like an artillery shell had just careened into them.

“I’m sorry. I really am. We’ll work out a custody agreement. For now, Logan and I are going to move in with Seth.”

“You’re not taking my son.”

“Jackson, I’ve already made my decision. Please don’t make this harder.”

“You can’t leave. You can’t.” By now, he was pleading. He didn’t care. He couldn’t let his life fall apart like this.

“It’s over. I won’t fight you for the house. It’s yours.”

Tears now openly flowed from his eyes. He’d seen friends die, seen terrible sights of human suffering during his time abroad. He’d endured blazing heat, terrifying moments, hell on earth. Nothing, though, hurt as much as this. Nothing hurt as much as losing the woman he thought he would share forever with. More than that, nothing hurt as much as losing their son.

“Please don’t take him.”

“I’m going to get a bag. We’ll get the rest of my stuff tomorrow.”

With the confession made, she was gone, gone to pack up for a new life with a man named Seth. Gone to take away his son, his whole life, his everything.

He was left behind in a house he no longer wanted, with half-washed dishes in the sink and an empty bed symbolizing a dream that had been destroyed. He was left to pick up the pieces of a life he could no longer have.

That night, it began.

The end of the beginning, the beginning of the end. The destruction of his life, of the Jackson he once was. The destruction of his belief in love, in happiness, in everything in between.

That was the night he’d started drinking.

He didn’t stop until the gavel fell in the courtroom taking his son away, taking away every last remnant of hope. Even then, the booze kept soothing his veins, numbing him to the barbed-wire feeling in his heart.

_______________

“Jackson? You hear me?” Evan burst into his thoughts, snapping him out of his memories.

“Yeah, sorry. Just tired.”